


Tune In

by cafemints



Series: ♡ eri and mari's commission for a cause [3]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Confessions, Falling In Love, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Smut, Romantic Fluff, Short One Shot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bc woosan soulmates, breathe if u agree, im playing around w tags again help me, soulmates are mentioned 8429 times but this is not a soulmate fic, very very mild you'll see it if you squint, well kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafemints/pseuds/cafemints
Summary: The Friday that was supposedly for caffeine, radiation from the computer screen, and working on 25-page paper ends up being a Friday for make-up shenanigans, stolen kisses, and…falling in love.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Series: ♡ eri and mari's commission for a cause [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704280
Comments: 7
Kudos: 79





	Tune In

**Author's Note:**

> [♡]. . . commissioned by [izabela](https://twitter.com/NiceNightmare13) for the [eri and mari's commission for a cause](https://twitter.com/hwacafes/status/1247794726868103170?s=20) whereas 100% of payment are donated to #FightCOVID19 (additional info + our other works can be found in that link!)
> 
> i also did a [mini playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3I64mgsbU9I7HErdeMmExL?si=0z_6Fhn9QvOMLZnAReTNhQ) for this in case anyone wanna vibe while reading ! i listened to pompoko's ost on repeat while writing this i swear it just gives me the... _vibes_

Have you ever wondered what your soulmate could be doing as of this moment?

  
  


While you are brewing coffee at 5 o’clock, are they still asleep under the disheveled sheets and only wake up when the rays of midday strike harshly through their lashes? While you are crying alone in your flat and taking comfort from the art of cartoons, do you think they feel sad, too? But never knowing the cause — just a sudden heart ache, a sudden rush of loneliness taking over, a sudden prayer to somber skies for their other half to be within their arms.

  
  


And while you are reading these words, scrolling through your phone or your computer perhaps, do you ever stop and stare and just  _ wonder  _ — what in the world could your soulmate be up to?

  
  


For San, he has found the other half of his heart in lecture halls, in empty corridors, within the comforting ambience of a nearby cafe and eventually within the four corners of the flat he calls home;

  
  


And now…

  
  


Now on the other side of his bed.

  
  


While San lies down with an arm sprawled out, while he feels the world has come to a turning point just to hyperfocus on this moment right here, right there, allowing him to admire how the lashes of his eyes endlessly yet lightly kiss the top of his cheeks, how his shoulders softly rise and fall every time he breathes;

  
  


His soulmate—on the other hand—San believes his soulmate is sleeping soundly and peacefully right there on his arm; so close to him it almost takes his breath away; so unaware and so,  _ so  _ beautiful.

  
  


San believes his soulmate takes the form of a guy named Jung Wooyoung. Once a stranger—like every other fairytale—and then a friend… but with benefits and now…

  
  


Now his lover, too.

  
  


San quietly smiles to himself. He gradually squeezes his eyes shut, basking in this wonderful, morning miracle and allowing himself some little time to be finally convinced that this is all true whether he believes it or not, and some more time for yesterday’s events to flash before his eyes because maybe those can show him the path he had taken and can pull him back to where he is now.

  
  


After all, it’s a beautiful memory, a beaming shard of past, and San wants to keep living in it.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


//

  
  


Yesterday is a Friday and that particular Friday was supposedly for caffeine, radiation from the computer screen, and dreadful hours and hours of working on a 25-page paper due next week. San already had progress, though, and even if it was only 2 out of 25, he permitted himself to give him a pat on the back. Good job. Now he could work on another two pages and cry himself to sleep afterwards. But then-

  
  


Enter Jung Wooyoung.

  
  


“Sannie!” his little  _ friend  _ hollered the moment he barged into his once quiet flat. But the silence was no longer existent in that case.

  
  


Meanwhile, Sannie was in the living room. He had been on the couch all afternoon that his butt was beginning to become one. The laptop had been sitting on his lap all afternoon that he guessed his thighs were now burnt from heat. (Of course, that was exaggerated and unhealthy. San would not recommend.) And he had horrible,  _ horrible  _ bags under his eyes that when he looked up from the screen and to Jung Wooyoung, the latter mocked pity on him, mouthing an, “ _ Aw. _ ”

  
  


“Shut up,” San whined. He dropped his hands from the keys and craned his head backwards. He wanted to cry, but it would be a waste of his time. So he postponed the Crying for later once he had done another two pages of his paper.

  
  


“You know what? I’m starting to get jealous of that laptop. He gets to sit on your lap more than I can,” Wooyoung joked, or maybe not. San did not really know or at least be bothered enough to know, ergo he only chuckled mirthlessly, the corner of his lip curling upwards somehow.

  
  


Now you may be thinking -  _ Wooyoung’s just a friend, right? So, why is there some sitting-on-the-lap happening in here?  _ And here came the story.

  
  


A friend is—in general terms—someone who’s there for you. Of course, that’s what everyone is going to say. A friend would listen to you when you talk and would trust you enough to talk with you. A friend would crawl on the mud, walk on fire, and fight Superman to help you however you need them so. That was what Wooyoung was for San.

  
  


And  _ no,  _ Wooyoung did not crawl on the mud, walk on fire, and even fight Superman for San. Rather, he was more than willing enough to fill in the empty void in his chest - a lingering loneliness, one that ached at night and made him hope for a better tomorrow or the day after that. He filled it in with soft kisses on cold skin, with intertwined hands and tangled legs, with every stroke of fingers through his blonde hair, and with every sing-whispering along to the faint music from the radio that San nearly failed to notice until he heard Wooyoung sing.

  
  


For the dummies, Wooyoung was a friend… with benefits. And yes, they exist.

  
  


This whole  _ thing  _ — fling? However 21st century humans call it — began not too long ago. It was right after their midterms, right before the second semester. As San was leaving himself to the flow and had let his tongue run over and over how depressed he was over the results of his exams, he had just found himself blubbering over feeling lonely, too. And Wooyoung was there, an arm draped over his shoulder, gentle pats and gentle pats as he knew San took comfort in those.

  
  


But for the gloomy evening, Wooyoung insisted for a bit more than a comfort — a band-aid. Something plastered on a fresh cut and to conceal it from the outside; a little rainshower on a summer day; and a little bit of red wine to fill in his parched cup. Wooyoung wiped a stray tear on San’s cheek that evening. He held his calloused hands and  _ kissed  _ his chapped lips. He had told him, “I’m here,” and it meant something more than words could hold.

  
  


When Wooyoung said he was there, it was true. He was there within his arms, on the receiving end of his every kiss, or tangled within his fingers. San could not deny that with touches as meaningless as these, it made him happy.  _ Too  _ happy, less lonely. That mattered more than the fact itself that it was unhealthy. It was just a band-aid after all. Anyone could strip that away. It would hurt, but five seconds later, it would not anymore. 

  
  


Now there went Jung Wooyoung, taking the laptop off his thighs and replacing it with — well — his  _ ass.  _ He bounced onto the top of his lap, his legs all on one side, and gained a painful grunt from San’s lips. Giggling, Wooyoung wrapped his arms around the boy’s neck as if it was amusing enough to see San wincing in pain.

  
  


“Shouldn’t you be at Seonghwa’s party?” San queried, face still distorted in pain as he tried to adjust himself underneath. As he settled down, he secured Wooyoung close to him, arms around his waist, and more giggles escaped Wooyoung. San almost forgot he was ticklish.

  
  


“It doesn’t start in less than an hour and that’s also why I’m here!” Wooyoung exclaimed jovially and raised his arms above his head excitedly. Seeing the vibrant colors hovering over his face, San started to worry. He did not think he would like where this was going.

  
  


“Don’t tell me-”

  
  


“Yes. I am inviting you to Seonghwa’s party.”

  
  


First thing that escaped San’s lips was another whine, prolonged and in complaint. It contradicted the smile stretching out on Wooyoung’s face which made his eyes like crescents of the moon. As a matter of fact, everything about them was a contrast to the other and it could be evidently seen by how San  _ whined  _ while Wooyoung  _ cheered  _ over a party. 

  
  


San was not very fond of wasting his time on anything that went in between him and anything essential, thus why he moved the Crying to a later schedule. And if he did that, why the hell would he be up now for a damn party? He refused to believe Wooyoung would understand when he had no 25-page paper due next week.

  
  


“I have a due next Friday, Woo,” San sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was stressed. Heck, he did not even know how he expected the gears in his brain to work when he was certain they were all oxidized by every stress hormone ever present.

  
  


“But you have 7 days to do it!”

  
  


“I  _ only  _ have 7 days to do it,” he argued back. His eyes held sad apologies and while his arms were back around Wooyoung’s waist and his hands intertwined together, he prayed Wooyoung would look into his eyes and see how  _ desperate  _ he was for help— but not really help. He was desperate for the goddamn paper to finish on its own, like if he blinked or snapped his fingers—ta-da!—25 pages all done and good to go. Unfortunately, we can’t always have nice things in life.

  
  


“But you’re stressed,” Wooyoung continued. He cupped San’s face in his hands, palms pressed against cheeks until his lips were curled into a pout. “How do you expect yourself to finish all of it with a frail state of mind?”

  
  


Snorting, San scrunched his nose up. “And attending a party would  _ un-frail  _ my state of mind?”

  
  


“Sure!” Wooyoung giggled yet again. “It does for me.”

  
  


“But I’m not you. I’m Choi San, not Jung Wooyoung.” And said Choi San shook his head while he carefully grabbed Wooyoung’s hands off his face. He held them instead and kept it close to his chest.

  
  


“Okay then,” Wooyoung began, shifting on San’s lap and causing the other to emit a groan as he did. “What would Choi San do to destress? Let’s do it,” said he rather suggestively, waggling his eyebrows up and down until San would take the hint.

  
  


But San only and lightly shook his head and his lips stretched out into a warm smile. “Just you,” he mumbled like a lullaby. “Just you,” and he repeated as he pressed his forehead against Wooyoung’s arm.

  
  


“Great!” Wooyoung chirped as if the night had just gone and the sun was now waving hello, but really, it was just a bulb lighting up above his head. “And  _ me  _ wants you to come with me to the party.”

  
  


Another groan that later faded into an exasperated sigh. “And what am I to do there? Squeeze myself into people who're not very fond of my presence?”

  
  


“Dumbass!” Wooyoung lightly slapped him by the arm and even if it was as light as the feather, San whimpered, everything exaggerated, only to receive another slap on the same place. “Do you really think they’d hate to see you? I’m sure they’ll be like, ‘Whoa!  _ Choi San?  _ Shouldn’t you be working on your paper?’” 

  
  


Over Wooyoung’s outright laughter, San chuckled derisively and frowned. “Ha-ha. Very funny. And they’re right. I  _ should be  _ working on my paper.”

  
  


“Nooo!” whined Wooyoung. He hopped off his thighs and stood in between his knees. He grabbed a hold of his hands and kept it as close to him as possible. “I’m just kidding. I meant that, sure, some of them would probably hate to see you there, but I would really love to.”

  
  


“But why?” San hung his head to the side, curious and apologetic.

  
  


And Wooyoung smiled — one that shaped his eyes into crescents of the moon — and San did not know if it was all due to the warm, fluorescent lights but he swore he saw colors upon Wooyoung’s cheeks.

  
  


“In a picture of anything that makes me happy, I always want you to be there.”

  
  


Words so beautiful, too alluring, an assurance against the lingering loneliness. In the end, San could only find himself smiling warmly — not too wide nor too small, but just enough to tell Wooyoung that: “Okay. I’ll come with you.”

  
  


Because no one could ever say no to those words.

  
  


“Yay!” cheered Wooyoung, raising his fists up in the air before he let himself fall on top of San, arms yet again found around the neck and the others around Wooyoung’s tiny waist. Then he looked up from the crook of San’s neck, face so close he could feel his breath against his jaw, and he said, “I’ll do your make-up.”

  
  


“ _ What? _ ”

  
  


“Make-up!” Wooyoung exclaimed and blinked at the other boy. “Of course, you wouldn’t go there looking like that, right?”

  
  


Scrunching his nose up, San asked in the cutest manner possible, “Looking like  _ what? _ ”

  
  


No words needed, Wooyoung reached out and grabbed San’s face by his hands, his thumbs softly rubbing across the bags under his eyes. He huffed frustratedly while Wooyoung on the other hand laughed audibly loud. 

  
  


San had been spending his afternoons till the break of dawn with eyes on his laptop screen, only stopping for meals and a 4-hour slumber. Yet, even so, the progress made had not even reached a third of the required number. To hell San was frustrated, and witnessing Wooyoung laughing at him did not even help. 

  
  


“You’re not helping me,” San wailed as he even squeezed his eyes shut, but Wooyoung did not take the hint, even proceeded on giggling louder at him.

  
  


“I’m helping you!” he chortled. “That’s why I’m gonna put some make-up on you and take you to a party to destress.”

  
  


San was too exhausted to refuse. He thought Wooyoung was right after all. Attending parties was never very San-y neither proven to be an effective coping mechanism for him, but trying new things should not hurt, right? He got Wooyoung by his side throughout the night anyway and that alone had him anticipating.

  
  


So San stayed seated on the couch while he looked at the other. Wooyoung headed for the radio and turned its volume up. That was only when San noticed it was playing this whole time. It had become a habit for him to switch it on as soon as he woke up that throughout the day it was left ignored — just a random sound faintly playing in the background of a film starring only him.

  
  


While a romantic song and the voice of a female DJ filled in the four corners of his flat, Wooyoung was now headed back to him with a pouch full of nothing else but make-up products and an exhilarated smile on his face.

  
  


“Okay, let’s do this!”

  
  


Another groan, but that could never tell Wooyoung to stop. 

  
  


The latter then dragged a chair and sat across San. After unzipping the pouch, the first thing in between his fingers was a stick of concealer.

  
  


“You might as well conceal my whole existence then.”

  
  


“You’re so dramatic,” laughed Wooyoung as he grabbed San by the arms and yanked him closer to him, the other lazily but complying.

  
  


No moment later and Wooyoung began spreading the liquid across the under of San’s eyes — cold against warmth and San did not know how he found that so comforting. Has make-up always been giving this sort of feeling? 

  
  


(Or was it just Wooyoung and the proximity in between?)

  
  


Foundation, powder, some sort of spray which San had failed to take note of because before he could ask, Wooyoung was already spritzing it all over his face. Then, eyebrows and a little eyeshadow of a warm color here and there and then San felt like a beauty queen.

  
  


“Mascara now!” Thank God, Wooyoung had warned him this time.

  
  


“Is that necessary?”

  
  


“Oh, stop acting like it’s your first time having make-up on your pretty face.”

  
  


“It’s not like they would notice it, like, ‘Whoa! Choi San? You have mascara on your lashes? Shouldn’t you be working on your paper now?’” San joked and a funny grin found its way to his lips while he watched Wooyoung twist the product open.

  
  


The other boy did not say anything afterwards. Instead, with the tips of his fingers did he hold San by his chin and urged him to move closer, so the latter did.

  
  


“Just look at me, okay?” Wooyoung ordered in an audible whisper.

  
  


“Okay,” and San whispered back, a smile on his face, as if he knew this was going to be such an easy ride. 

  
  


How little what he knew.

  
  


Because three seconds after his eyes fixed on Wooyoung’s — watched how he was intensely focused, how his lashes flutter softly like butterfly wings when it was about to land on a flower, and how his tongue would slowly dart out and lick the lower part of his lips —

  
  


San could feel his heart slipping out of the cage, pounding on his chest as if it begged to be set free.

  
  


He had never felt this way before and thus why he had no name for it. Heart beating out of pace, ragged and shallow breathing — was he panicking? Was this the perfect moment to do what his friend, Hongjoong, had taught him? He was not so sure, but it was not as if he had more straws to pull, so he did whatever his mind could remember — the 5-4-3-2-1 coping technique.

  
  


Five things he could see: Wooyoung (goddamn pretty), the stick of mascara so close to him, the warm lighting of the lamp beside him through his peripheral vision, the TV set, and the little radio above.

  
  


Four things he could feel: the tips of Wooyoung’s fingers grazing across his chin, the weight of the stick against his feather-light lashes, the leather texture of the couch, and Wooyoung’s breath fanning over his sensitive skin.

  
  


Three things he could hear: Wooyoung’s whispers of assurance, his own damn heartbeat that would not stop despite this stupid technique, and the voice of the female DJ from the radio that talked about…

  
  


_ Soulmates. _

  
  


_ For you, they may be someone new. They may be someone you have just met or someone you are just about to meet. However, it is true. _

  
  


_ And we may never know — what if they were someone that has been there all along? Say, a childhood sweetheart? A high school friend? Or a colleague? Say, someone you always believed to be no one but of comfort until you heard your own heart hammering against your chest. _

  
  


_ For the dummies: until you took a step forward and fell in love. _

  
  


_ Love is complex and dynamic. They say it’s omnipresent and we can believe it is. Perhaps, we get so used to overlooking it and mistaking it as something else — a tune from a radio that fills in the four corners of your home, yet only taken as a background music of a film starring you and a misguided lover. _

  
  


_ But it’s there and it has always been. It’s right in front of you. You just have to squint your eyes and hear the live beats within your chest. _

  
  


Stupid and oblivious, San did squint his eyes only to be scolded by - well - the apparent love of his life.

  
  


“Dumbass! Why did you-” Wooyoung groaned. He immediately twisted the cap of the mascara back on as he hurried to pluck out some wet wipes from the pouch. “Now you look like half a panda.”

  
  


San was too overwhelmed to speak. He opened his mouth yet no words came out. Just another string of heavy breaths, so he sealed his lips back shut.

  
  


After redoing the make-up for the other eye, Wooyoung took out another stick. “Lip balm for the chapped lips!”

  
  


Usually, San would whine, but he couldn’t. He only sat there and watched Wooyoung twist it in his fingers, sat there and watched as he applied it on his lips, slowly spreading it across, making sure no spot was left uncovered.

  
  


Then Wooyoung giggled afterwards. “I think I put a little too much?” With those as the last words, Wooyoung gave no warning, cupped San’s face in his hands, and kissed him.

  
  


Yet just as when he was to pull away, San was suddenly able to move. He wrapped his arms around Wooyoung’s neck and brought his face closer to his. The kiss now lingering, nothing more in between, but what he truly felt for Wooyoung — love. It had always been that. Once masked by desire and mistaken as comfort, it was almost unrecognizable until he heard his own heart screaming for his name.

  
  


A minute later did San only pull away. His eyes were fluttering open, his lips wanting more while Wooyoung simply giggled.

  
  


“Damn, make-up does things to you?”

  
  


“I think I’m in love with you.”

  
  


Fuck.

  
  


Why was he suddenly able to speak when it was at the wrong moment? 

  
  


The smile disappeared from Wooyoung’s lips and was replaced by a silent gasp, his mouth left agape. No one knew what else to say, no one knew what else to do.

  
  


But the radio knew.

  
  


_ If you thought of someone while listening to tonight’s broadcast, I say: go grab them, kiss them dearly, and tell them you love them because you do. I swear, you do _ .

  
  


Tears bursted out of Wooyoung’s eyes. They came falling and rolling down on his cheeks. San started getting nervous and started shaking his head no. “No, no. I’m sorry. Forget it-”

  
  


“I love you, too.”

  
  


And Wooyoung grabbed him by the collars of his shirt, kissed him one more time, and told him, “I was almost thankful the hanahaki disease was not real or else I would have been dead by now.”

  
  


Shaky laughter escaped San. He was too happy, never lonely. 

  
  


Who would have thought that someone he only thought of as a band-aid — something only to stick on the bullet-shaped void in his chest — ends up being  _ the _ someone to become his other half? No, there were no marks at all, not a heart-shaped tattoo, not a digital clock that had counted down to zero plastered on his wrist, nor any magic that could tell them they were each other’s. 

  
  


It was faith alone. San believed Wooyoung was his soulmate and Wooyoung did, too. It was that alone.

  
  


“Say, let’s skip the party?” San said in between kisses. He wiggled his brows as his lips stretched out into a suggestive smirk.

  
  


“But I did your make-up already,” Wooyoung replied, pouting.

  
  


Then San held him by the wrists and pulled him onto his thighs. He held him by the hips and whispered, “I have a better party for you.” 

  
  


And Wooyoung could not say no.

  
  
  
  
  


In between kisses and now meaningful touches, the radio continued on.

  
  


_ Love. What a beautiful thing to be overlooked and only noticed by the ones aware, the ones with an open heart, the ones with chin hanging up. _

  
  


_ Love. If you hear the word, who’s the person in your mind? _

  
  


“Wooyoung,” whispered San.

  
  


_ That’s who your soulmate is. _

**Author's Note:**

> writing this was another step out of my comfy zone and it feels great ! this was a ~little~ inspired by the korean film Tune In For Love (2019) (MUST WATCH! TRUST ME! I SQUEALED!) i loved doing this and i hope u esp izabela enjoyed reading this ! 
> 
> _links u may ignore...unless?:[moodboard](https://twitter.com/hwacafes/status/1262046299836125191?s=20) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/ericafe) | [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/orbyts)_


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